


Tenacity

by atsukunaru



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 20:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18080633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsukunaru/pseuds/atsukunaru
Summary: Akira isn't as sneaky as he intends to be.Sojiro is more perceptive than either of them bargained for.





	Tenacity

**Author's Note:**

> i recently started a new save file, and this has been on my mind ever since.

“I’m off.”

The words are spoken softly, and Sojiro acknowledges them with a glance and a disinterested wave. “Be safe, make sure you’re on time, and don’t do anything stu—” 

Wait.  
  
He cuts himself short, eyes flitting up from scrubbing at a stubborn water ring on the counter. Something seems… _wrong._ He can’t quite place where the sensation comes from—whether it’s in the tone of the kid’s voice, or the half-glimpse Sojiro had caught of him as he’d hurried past—but _whatever_ it is, it’s enough. “Hold up a second,” he orders.

Akira freezes in the doorway, shoulders tensing in such a way that only heightens Sojiro’s suspicions. 

“Turn around.” It’s not a suggestion, and Akira certainly knows this, but he still hesitates for a moment before acquiescing, posture slackening and eyes trained steadily on the floor.

Sojiro swears aloud. Then, as an afterthought, “You are _not_ going to school today.”

Akira lifts his head, voice rising in just pitch just enough to highlight the choked, rasping noise beneath each syllable. “But you said—”

“I know what I said,” Sojiro can’t believe he’s seriously having this conversation right now, “But I also _just_ told you not to do anything stupid, and this is the very definition of ‘stupid’.” The kid looks horrible—pale and sweaty and sagging against the doorframe. Obviously drowsy, eyes glassy and barely focused, it’s a small miracle he’s upright at all. Even to Sojiro’s untrained eye, it’s clear that he belongs nowhere but in bed.

He’d be impressed by this sheer tenacity if it wasn’t the dumbest thing he’s seen all week.  
  
A deep breath, in, then out. “I’ll call the school, you go back upstairs.” He receives a look like he’d just grown a second head. “ _Go_ , before I change my mind.” 

A stiff nod, and Akira wobbles his way back towards the staircase.  
  
One quick phone call later, Sojiro comes out from behind the counter—just long enough to flip the OPEN sign over to CLOSED. He makes a point of telling himself it’s simply because he doesn’t want to expose his regulars to whatever awful virus the kid had managed to drag home.

Secretly—inwardly—he knows better.  
  
He puts the kettle on, humming to himself as he tidies up while waiting for it to boil. His fingers ghost over the shelves, locating a jar of honey with practiced ease. Akira likes sweet things, right? The odd feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realizes he doesn’t actually know is unexpected…regardless, it’ll be good for his sore throat, and that’s all that really matters.

Water boiled, leaves steeped, and a generous spoonful of honey stirred in, Sojiro approaches the stairs with his creation. He pauses at the bottom to listen to a flurry of harsh coughs, then makes as much noise as possible ascending the steps so he doesn’t startle the kid into next week.  
  
To his chagrin, Akira hasn’t exactly made his way into bed yet, instead perched on the edge with his head hanging between his knees—faint and dizzy from climbing the stairs, no doubt. He’s breathing hard, a wheeze accompanying each inhalation, but he makes a valiant effort to pull himself upright when he hears Sojiro coming.

Sojiro wordlessly passes the mug into his hands, ensuring he has a tight enough grasp on it before pulling away. Akira barely avoids splashing tea on himself anyway when a sudden shiver wracks his frame. It’s only then that Sojiro really takes the time to consider how chilly the attic really is, and he finds himself pulling the comforter up and around the kid’s shoulders before he can talk himself out of it. In for a penny, in for a pound, he brushes the backs of his fingers against Akira’s forehead—positively boiling, as expected. 

“I’ll need to run home for a minute,” he says, more to himself than anything. “Don’t have much in the way of medicine here.” Then, fixing a trained eye on Akira, “Anything I should know about, besides the cough and the fever?”

Akira shakes his head. “Just tired,” he offers lamely.  
  
Sojiro snorts. “’Just tired,’ he says. Take a couple sips of that, then we’ll get you settled, alright?”

Akira nods, blows on his tea, sips experimentally, and swallows. His eyes slip shut—either Sojiro had been right about the taste, or else the honey is doing its job, because the rest of the cup disappears quickly over the next five minutes.

To Sojiro’s amusement, he actually has to pry the empty mug from Akira’s fingers. “More in a little while—gotta wait to see how that sits in your stomach, first.”

Akira nods, already listing sideways in anticipation of sleep. Sojiro holds him upright just long enough to get his school blazer off before helping him arrange his limbs into a position that looks vaguely comfortable.  
  
“Rest for now,” he orders, smoothing out the creases in the blanket, “I’ll be back.”

Akira nods a second time.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

A third nod, and Sojiro knows he’s not imagining that tiny hint of a smile.


End file.
